“No,” Petrana says, a little bit more gently, sitting down beside Kitty and regarding the spirit that appears before them rather than the girl beside her. “That is precisely my point—that is why witchcraft was forbidden. Because it cannot be...there are no 'nonmagic' and 'magic' people, the way that there are no...'sword' and 'nonsword' people.”

This would be a more frustrating conversation if it weren't a familiar one, at this point; mages who are born, mages whose magic is something innate to them, that seems to be far more common than a situation like her own world, where magic is innate to the world.

“The only way to stop people from learning magic is to punish them for it—to make it forbidden, to make them fear the consequences. If magic represented power, explicitly, in that way—there would soon be very few people without magic, and another means would have to be found to divide the cruel from those they exploited. When I say that magic is a tool, I mean just that—it is a skill that any person might learn. Simply because someone does not know how to sing doesn't mean they have no voice. Because I do not wield a sword doesn't mean I am incapable of finding an edge. No one is without magic in a way that would mean they could not grasp it, if they reached.”

The spirit's expression is not unfamiliar. It is easier to look at, after so many visions of her own memories, than someone she's speaking to.

“Books of witchcraft were burned. Witches killed, their children smothered to end a sinful line. And yet: magic persisted. Women who reached for power found it. It cannot be ground out, so it cannot be controlled, so it was forbidden because it was power that no regime could limit to themselves.”